


Cry For You

by VictorianBreaker



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint and Thor being bros, Feelstide 2012, I haven't taken mythology since high school, M/M, mild violence, please remember that, questionable science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianBreaker/pseuds/VictorianBreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“Mother cried for three days until the mistletoe berries turned white with her sorrow,” Thor explained. “Balder lived where once he was dead because of her tears.”</p><p>Frigga stared hard at the archer, seeming to examine his soul, “Allfather Odin, I find Clinton Barton worthy of my challenge, should he wish to attempt it.”"</p><p>Written for Feelstide 2012 prompt number 70.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It begins like this...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "According to some legends, Baldur was killed by Hoder (blind god of winter) using a dart/arrow made out of mistletoe by Loki. Frigga cried for three days until the berries of the misteltoe turned from red to white. Clint needs to use this legend somehow, if he wants to get Phil back."
> 
> I hope I did it justice...

“Ok, everyone, draw a name from the hat. Step right up, don’t be shy. Come on, Circus Boy, you first,” Tony shook what had to be the most ostentatious top hat in the history of forever in Clint’s face.

“Nice hat, Tony. Where’d you get it: Santa’s workshop circa 1920?”

“Yeah,” Natasha spoke from the couch where she was curled up, “is that… bedazzled?”

Steve frowned, “What’s beda-?”

“It is NOT bedazzled! Although, I will admit Dummy may have gone a bit overboard. And you!” He pointed the hat at Natasha and jiggled it, indicating her turn to pick a name, “Stay away from my jewel adhesion device or I update your uniform.”

She raised an eyebrow as she read her piece of paper but stayed silent.

“Capcicle?”

“So, wait. Explain this to me, again. We only buy one gift, right? Whoever’s on this paper?”

“Yup. And no one’s supposed to know who you got – Point Break? – and you’re not supposed to know who got you.”

“CLINTON!” Thor boomed as he read the name on his paper, “I have received you!”

“Of course, there are other schools of thought.”

“What do you desire to receive this Christ-Mas, my friend?”  
Clint face grew blank; his eyes far away, as he rose and left the room. Natasha frowned and followed him.

Thor frowned, “I do not understand. Have I upset Brother Clint?”

Tony shared his look, “That was weird.”

At that moment, the elevator opened to reveal one Darcy Lewis carrying an overflowing box of what appeared to be office supplies. “Hey, guys,” she chirped.

“Hey, Darcy,” Steve greeted as he rose to take the box from her, “What do you have here?”

“Oh,” she winced, handing the container over, “Um, this is the stuff from Agent Coulson’s office.”

Tony began rifling through the box in Steve’s hands, “Why are you bringing it here? Shouldn’t it be going to that cellist in Portland?”

“Cellist in Portland?” She kicked off her shoes and settled into the couch, “I don’t know about any cellist. But Agent Barton was listed as his next of kin, so all of this stuff goes to him.”

“Clinton is the Son of Coul’s kinsman?” Thor threw a confused look around the room, meeting Bruce’s eyes as the scientist shrugged.

“No,” Tony sounded shocked as he pulled a picture frame out of the box. He turned the picture frame to face the others. It was a black and white photograph with Clint and Phil both in suits, grinning and exchanging rings. “He was Coulson’s husband.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve and Tony left the others behind to find Clint while Darcy and Bruce dug around in a large box Pepper had brought earlier before she left for meetings.

Thor sat in a large recliner, a puzzled look on his face.

“I wouldn’t dwell on it, too much, big guy,” Darcy said as she dragged a dining chair into the room and stood on it, “If they didn’t tell anyone, I suppose they had a reason.” Bruce steadied her chair as she reached above her head to hang whatever was in her hands. “Maybe it was frat regs,” she started to climb down, one hand on Bruce’s shoulder to balance herself, “or maybe-“

“Mistletoe?” Thor interrupted, staring at the ceiling.

“Uh, yeah?”

Thor bounded out of the chair, practically leaping across the room, and swallowed her in a hug, “Thank you, Darcy! You have given me the answer!” He kissed her forcefully on the mouth and turned to the scientist, “And Bruce, my friend-!”

“You’d better not kiss me.”

Thor grinned broadly and clapped his shoulder instead, “Very well! I must go speak with Clint!”

“Speak to me about what?” Clint appeared with the others behind him, eyes slightly red, but face giving nothing away.

“Brother Clint? I wish to give you your gift early.”

Clint frowned, “What do you mean?”

“We must travel on the Bifrost back to Heimdall. Your present awaits. A challenge with great reward. Bring your bow and we shall hunt for the ultimate prize!”

The archer looked at the others in the room, unsure. Thor decided to bring out the heavy artillery, “Please?”

This time Clint cracked a small smile and shrugged, “Sure. Why not?”

****

They were both greeted warmly as they entered Odin’s Hall. Following Thor’s lead, Clint nodded his head at the living Norse god, still a bit in awe at the whole experience.

“Clinton Barton,” Odin’s booming voice echoed around the great hall, “Thor has sent word of the exploits of you and your brothers in arms. I also know of your mate.” Clint’s face betrayed his shock as he shot a look at the god of thunder. “You are here, then, to complete Frigga’s challenge?”

Frigga spoke at Clint’s confusion, “I lost my son, once. Balder.” Her voice was soft in sympathy.

“Mother cried for three days until the mistletoe berries turned white with her sorrow,” Thor explained. “Balder lived where once he was dead because of her tears.”

Frigga stared hard at the archer, seeming to examine his soul, “Allfather, I find Clinton Barton worthy of my challenge, should he wish to attempt it.”

“Well, Brother Clint? What say you?” Thor looked altogether too happy.

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“This challenge is your gift. You will be the first Midgardian to participate,” the god of thunder explained, a puppyish tilt to his head, eyes practically pleading.

“Oh, well that explains everything,” Clint was still confused, but he turned to the elder god. “Yes?”

“Very well. Clinton Barton, I, Odin, Son of Borr, come upon this agreement with you. If you find the Mistletoe berries and turn them red once more before the dawn of Christ-mas day, I shall have my Valkyries release Phillip Coulson from Valhalla, and he shall live once more.”

“Wait, what?” Clint looked wildly around, “Phil’s in Valhalla?”

Odin turned to Thor, a gleam of amusement in his eye, and said, “Now, go, my son, and aid your friend in his quest.”

The two Avengers turned to leave, Clint still trying to get Thor to explain himself, but Frigga stopped them before they got very far, “Thor, Clinton, take these with you.” She presented the two with sheepskin and wool cloaks and a satchel of food and mead. “This will help you on your journey up the mount.” She leaned in to kiss Thor on the cheek, “Take the south pass and don’t turn off,” she whispered, just loud enough for Clint to hear. She then turned to Clint and kissed him as well, “You will do well, dear boy. He’s been waiting for you.”

“Phil,” he swallowed and started again, “He’s been waiting for me?”

Frigga nodded, “Your love will guide you in this journey. Many young men have taken upon themselves this task. None were as worthy of the reward as you both are.”

Clint nodded numbly and followed Thor out of the great hall and into the snowy evening. “Thor… What the hell just happened?”

Thor handed the archer a sheepskin cloak with an unsure look. “You are a man who has lost much. It is easy to see on your face,” he turned away and began to lead the archer up a well-lit path, “You trust no one but the widow. You are guarded at all times. I have seen the image of you and the Son of Coul at the celebration of your joining. There, you are not guarded.” He stopped a moment, turning to face Clint, a serious look gracing his face, “I consider you a friend, Brother Clinton. I wish to see that look on your face more often.” They both stared at each other a moment, uncomfortable silence dancing around them. “Enough talk. Now, we go to fight for your mate.”

Thor spun back to the path, waving his hammer above his head.

Behind him, Clint smiled so hard his cheeks began to hurt.

****

"You cheated, my dear," Odin chastised as Frigga joined him once more, sitting on her throne. She let out a sigh and opened her mouth to reply, but Odin stopped her, concern evident in his voice, "You did tell him to take the south pass, didn't you?"

Frigga smiled brightly and rested her hand on his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did Google "Things that make you cry".

CHAPTER 3

“Brother Clint,” Thor started uncomfortably at dawn the next day, “I wish to apologize to you.”

Clint stopped in his tracks and looked up at Thor, a little ways further up the path than him, “What? Why are you apologizing?”

“For my brother. For what he has done to you. For what he has taken away from you.” Thor refused to look at Clint’s face, apparently finding the snowy ground much more interesting.

He looked back up when he heard a laugh, “Thor, man, what Loki… what *he* did… That’s no one’s fault but Loki’s.”

“But-“

“Has anyone ever told you about my brother?” At Thor’s lowered eyebrows, Clint continued, “I wouldn’t expect anyone to really know about him. Barney,” Clint hesitated and drew in a deep breath, “Barney was a very good man. Joined the Army, the FBI. But, then he was drawn into a lot of bad things.” His voice trailed off, lost in thought a moment, before he shook his head and continued, “Trust me, I know that what Barney has done isn’t my fault, even though sometimes it’s easy to think that it is. I wouldn’t want to take the blame for anything that he’s gotten himself into.” 

Thor stood silent, contemplating. “I see. It appears you and I have more in common than we thought,” he broke out into a large grin, “Come! We need to set things right and we are rapidly losing time.”

He began up the trail again, but Clint held back. “Clint?”

“Listen. Thor, whatever happens.” He cleared his throat and met the God of Thunder’s big blue eyes, “Whatever happens with this whole thing… Thank you. For the opportunity. For just the chance to have Phil back.” 

Clint’s eyes were watering and Thor drew him into a hug, “My brother, there is nothing I would not do for either of you.”

****

It took two days, a giant wolf, and a highly uncomfortable conversation about Jane’s womanly assets versus Phil’s manly abilities before they stumbled upon the white berries. It was Christmas Eve, sometime in the evening, when Clint’s sharp eyes spotted their shape against the snow. “There!”

Thor stopped, spinning in place, wildly searching about them, stepping lightly to avoid smashing anything.

Clint stepped cautiously closer knelt, and plucked the bundle of mistletoe from the ground, cradling them reverently to his chest. “OK. We found them.” He looked up at Thor, unsure, “Now what?”

Thor frowned, “I am just as lost as you are, my friend. I know Mother cried for three days and the berries turned. Perhaps…?”

“You’re thinking if I cry enough I’ll be able to turn the berries back. Ok. Cry. I can do this,” the archer mumbled to himself. He stayed kneeling, staring at the berries clutched in his hands intently. 

Thor plopped down into the snow to wait by his friend’s side, Mjolnir in his lap, settling in.

****

Four hours later, Clint dropped down onto his rear with a sigh of frustration, “We’re running out of time and I can’t get the damn berries to turn!” He gestured up to the dark sky, “Look! We only have, like, an hour left before midnight and nothing seems to be working!”

“Perhaps what you are thinking about is not sad enough. What are you dwelling upon?”

“I don’t know! Phil. My parents. The circus. Anything I can to make myself feel sad. But I haven’t cried in almost 20 years! Maybe I’ve just forgotten how,” he dropped his head in defeat.

“Let me help. Lady Jane showed me a movie that made my own eyes well with tears. There was a lion cub who tried to raise his father from the dead.”

“Lion King. You want me to cry over the Lion King. I mean that was really sad,” Clint shrugged, “Sad things. Sad. The Lion King. When the bearded lady died. When Phil died. When Trickshot left. The other kids in the orphanage.” At this point, he was rocking on his feet, hunched over the berries, steadily getting louder, and more upset. “When Cap gets that lost look in his eye and you just know he’s back in 1943. The look on Pepper’s face when she stares at Tony. The look when Natasha sees a child.” The look was now angry, and he clinched the berries tighter in his fist, “When there are dogs on the street! When parents have to bury their child. The goddamned Sarah McLachlan ASPCA videos! FUCK!” He tossed the berries away from himself as he stood up, pacing, and sobbing, “I am never going to see Phil again! All because I can’t fucking cry over him! I love him and I can’t shed enough fucking tears for him! God! I am such a fuck-up! I miss him so much and every day I have to go home and lie in our bed and think about how the last time I saw him I was so angry with him because of some stupid fight we had the night before.” He fell to his knees, dropped his head into his hands, “And all I can think about is what I wouldn’t give to have just one more minute, just one, just to tell him that I love him.” He let out another sob and whispered, “And the fucking mistletoe sliced my hand. And it hurt.” He sniffled.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him as he sobbed into his hands. 

“I already know you love me,” a voice that definitely did not belong to Thor whispered in his ear, “I love you, too. And I’m sorry about your hand.”

Clint twisted in the grip to face Phil, pulling him into the tightest bear hug he could, sobbing, “Oh, god, Phil! You’re here! And you’re real! And you’re never going anywhere without me to protect you ever. Ever ever!”

Thor smiled gently as he rose to collect the berries from the snow. He picked them up and examined them. They were smeared in blood. Apparently in his desperation Clint had grasped the bunch too hard, but the berries were red. The archer was the only one to have ever successfully completed the task.

He sat down again, the berries on his lap, this time to wait for a happier reason. He would wait as long as it took. After all, they had nothing but time.


End file.
